


See You On The Other Side

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hate Crimes, Headaches & Migraines, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Moving On, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Psychic Abilities, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Jim Hutton is dead, but he hasn't moved on.For years, he's lingered, a silent presence beside his lover, Freddie Mercury, determined not to leave until Freddie is happy, but, Jim only has a month before he's doomed to wander among the living forever, unseen and never able to move on. As a last minute resort, Jim seeks the help of the new neighbor, Brian May, a powerful psychic with no backbone whatsoever, to help him with one last job.Before he leaves, Jim wants Freddie to fall in love.
Relationships: Brian May/Freddie Mercury, Jim Hutton/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	See You On The Other Side

**February 1st**

The day started just like it always did- with Freddie grasping for a body that wasn't there, and Jim watching from his perch. 

Outside, the sun had barely come up beyond the horizon. Even the birds were still asleep, tucked safely away in their nests. But Freddie wasn't one to be daunted by such things, and in the in between of morning and night, he grasped at the other side of the bed, his hands reaching out for a body that hadn't been there in years. 

Jim watched from his chair in the corner of the room, hands folded, lips pressed thin in displeasure. There was nothing that he could do besides sit and watch, his dark eyes seeing everything. Freddie gasped in his sleep, a little whimper, and then his eyes popped up and he jolted up, awake. 

Freddie looked down at the bed, as if surprised. His chest rose and tell rapidly, and the fear lingered in his eyes, cloaking the man in a thick sheet of sadness. His dream was already fading back into the nothingness of memories, but Freddie had been having the same one for the past two years, and he already could remember it in full. 

Because it wasn't much of a dream, but a flashback. 

Slowly, Freddie slipped out of bed. The floor must've been cold, because he shivered slightly when his bare feet hit the wood, but then he was moving out of the room and into the hall. Jim stood up, too, and followed him, like an unseen shadow. Freddie started the shower, which always took a few minutes to warm up. He went back into the bedroom to retrieve his clothing for the day, while Jim stood in the threshold of the door, watching him. 

Freddie still hadn't thrown out, or even packed away, Jim's clothing, nor his books, or anything of that nature. Every single thing that Jim had owned was still there in its original place, gathering dust. Freddie didn't seem to care about the state of their flat, letting it fall to the ashes of what once was. 

Jim hated it, but could do nothing but press feather-light touches against Freddie's skin and watch as his lover looked up, startled, but unable to see what has caused the strange draft. 

Their daily life was monotonous and oddly repetitive. Freddie would awaken, take a quick shower, dress and comb his hair, eat a small breakfast that usually consisted of cereal, and then brush his teeth. It was odd, to not see the usual vivacious life that Freddie had possessed just a few short years ago.

Jim would never get used to it. 

Delilah was on the table, her multicolored tail flicking in the air. She was the one other sign of life, a precious light in the darkness. Freddie smoothed down the ruffled fur on her back, and then picked Delilah up so he could pet her properly. "Hello, my beautiful girl." Freddie whispered, scratching Delilah just behind her ear. "You're hungry, aren't you?" 

The cat meowed in response, her eyes stuck on Jim, who just smiled at her. Animals could see him- or, at least, sense him. 

Freddie always seemed confused by Delilah's wandering gaze, but didn't comment on it as he set her down and set on the task of getting her breakfast. 

It was all a dull routine, as if the whole ordeal was a movie that Jim had seen countless times over and over. Every step, every breathe, was a repetition of something that'd been done the exact way over several times before. 

Jim never wanted to see the movie again, but he couldn't tear his eyes away, as if doing so would ruin the precarious peace. In a way, Jim supposed that it was like a dam that was constantly under the threat of breaking and letting the water that'd been held back for so long reign its horrible destruction. 

"There you go, darling." Freddie said, stroking Delilah's back as she chowed down on her food. Being around the cat always put Freddie in a better mood- perhaps being around a creature that was so full of life, pure and simple, lightened the darkness, if only a little bit. 

Freddie briefly ducked out to grab the morning paper, and then made himself a breakfast of toast and marmite, sitting down and chewing on it mechanically while reading the news. Jim could remember when they used to sit across the table and talk to each other about things that didn't matter, laughing over breakfast at corny jokes, content. 

Now, it all felt cold. 

Jim had nothing to do but sit on the opposite chair and watch Freddie, knowing that such a thing would never happen again. 

Two years, long and hard, spent in mutual solitude. 

_All because of some stupid bloody bigots._

They were off, living their lives, and Freddie was stuck here, miserable and numb. Jim sighed, and Freddie looked up as the sound registered, faint as it was. 

But it sounded like nothing more than a draft, and it was an reasonably old house, anyways. The floorboards shifted and creaked ominously, and nothing much could be said about the water leaks that happened every so often. "Damned house." Freddie muttered, but there was no heat in his tone. He set aside the paper and stood up, placing his plate on the counter. 

Jim hummed, looking up at the ceiling. "So sorry, but, in my limited defense, you did want a house with looks." He said, knowing that nobody could hear him, and not caring. 

Freddie sighed heavily, as if the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders. 

It was probably true. 

They went upstairs, and Freddie finished getting ready for the day, unaware of the lingering presence that was always there, silent but never gone. Maybe he could sense it, in a faraway sense, but Freddie wasn't attuned to such beings, and maybe that was for the best. It would make leaving much more terrible. 

Jim didn't want to leave, but according to- _they - ,_ there was no other choice. He would either leave peacefully, or be doomed to walk the living world long after Freddie died, and would have to choose between his lover and eternal peace in the afterlife. Jim didn't want that, but his choices were rather limited. 

But not for long, and that accounted for some things. 

The neighbor was outside, watering his plants, and Jim was almost grinning when Freddie walked into the backyard to go and inspect the comparatively pathetic roses that had long does after months of being neglected. 

You see, Jim had a plan, and maybe it was cruel to conspire, but there were only twenty days left before Jim had to make his choice. It felt like some sort of twisted fairytale, as if a backwards version of Cinderella was taking place. 

Brain May was a tall, scrawny man, pale with bags hanging under his dark eyes. He lived alone, and maybe that wasn't good for his health, but it was certainly going to work out in Jim's favor, because there wasn't any body to interfere in the plans. 

"Oh..hello, there." Brian said, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

Freddie smiled, and damn, if Jim didn't see a spark of interest in those dark eyes, then he must've been blind. "Hi, Brian." Freddie said, bending down to inspect the roses, his fingers curling over the dim red leaves, which crumbled under the slight weight. 

As Jim walked out, his shoes soundless on the concrete steps, Brian looked up, seeing the other man for whom he really was. Jim smiled, but the motion wasn't returned.

Brian was, in the simplest of terms, a psychic, and his eyes and mind could pierce through the veil that separated the living and the dead from each other. He lived in an old, crumbling house that seemed to constantly be on the verge of collapse, and only really came out to water his plants, which thrived in spite of their surroundings. "Lovely morning, isn't it?" Brian said, awkwardly standing in front of the rows of plants, twisting his hands together. 

Freddie glanced toward the sky, which was brightening considerably, squinting as the sun clashed with the dark brown of his eyes. Jim felt his heart swell at the very sight. "Quite." Freddie agreed, standing up from his crouch. 

It was nothing more than polite conversation, but even Jim could feel the underlying meanings of each and every word. "Why, are you interested in my husband, Brian May?" He teased. 

Brian's face became quite red, and he simply turned around. Jim wasn't offended in the slightest, knowing that Brian was actually rather a rather sweet person, and that he just couldn't give himself away by talking to people that weren't really there. Freddie sighed, a deep, heaving sound. "Well, I think I'm going to go back inside now. I'll see you later, alright?" He said, but all three of them knew that, in all likelihood, such a thing wouldn't happen. 

Usually, anyways. 

Freddie walked back inside, and Jim leaned across the fence that separated their two yards. "You're so shy, Brian. Just say something, for pete's sake." He said. 

With his usual frown firmly in place, Brian refused to look at Jim directly in the eyes. "You know full and well that I cannot." 

Jim scoffed. " _Why?"_ He asked, amused despite himself. 

The frown morphed into a scowl. "Because he won't accept it. Goodbye, Mr. Hutton." And then Brian turned on his heel and walked away, back into his own house, filled with his own ghosts. 

Literally. 


End file.
